The English Teacher

We all have this one favorite teacher, who is easily the coolest and strongest person we have ever encountered. For me, its my English Teacher...

Speeding down the streets as a vague violet glint,

Her sharp features held high and erect against wind's sway,

With the sun adding to her bronze, a golden tint,

My teacher roars away every day.

Grinning as she steps over the threshold,

With a casual wave,

She entwines the class in her mystic hold,

Where every pupil knows to learn, to laugh -and to behave.

Alive did Shakespeare, Frost and Eyre trod in her classes,

Where she took us each day on a voyage,

We sped in horses tearing through white, frozen land masses,

Yea, scooped up gold, bathing in the rising sun's shimmering gaze.

On papers did we slay dragons and beasts,

Gripping our swords tight as they rose to the sky, menacing fangs bared,

Yea, met rich merchants and their mistresses in feasts,

As they drank deeply from glasses, sparkling red wine, nodding as greetings n gambles were shared.

Deep and frightening as a moody sea,

Her anger would rise at times,

Scorching pupil who stand small, trembling and guilty,

Yet clearing in no time, with a lopsided smile, giving way to bright sunshine.

As that star, unfailing and trusty,

She lights my way home,

As the darkness around her thickened, black and murky,

The more brightly she shone.

 Not that she doesn't weep,

But that she smiles after she does,

And says "Am okay", be it sorrow however deep,

Makes her stand up again, strong and fit to lead us.

She gave us a language,

That stirred our souls to speak out, clear and loud,

Forged for us our metal, to etch upon our glorious visage,

Yea! Showed us how nice it is to be boundlessly loved!